


With a bass thrumming

by Lacertae



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Aphrodisiacs, Bars and Pubs, Blow Jobs, Edgeplay, Established Relationship, Hand Jobs, M/M, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Post-Mission, Semi-Public Sex, Wall Sex, sound kink
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-18
Updated: 2019-04-18
Packaged: 2020-01-15 17:51:59
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,788
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18504046
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lacertae/pseuds/Lacertae
Summary: *Mccree/Zenyatta* The mission being completed meant they had... a lot of time, before returning to the base.





	With a bass thrumming

**Author's Note:**

> had this in the works since forever but writing in these past few months feels much like trying to remove teeth with claws so like. ENJOY

**With a bass thrumming**

Something had been off from the moment they had entered the pub.

Jesse was dressed down, for the mission –civilian clothes, he called them, not something he used to wear often considering his propension for his serape and his hat. Having his head uncovered in public felt _wrong_ , but Jesse could easily go with the flow.

At his size was Zenyatta, who Jesse could say was actually dressed _up_ , since the only clothes he used to wear were pants and a sash, and now… nice pants, a button-down shirt, and a jacket, making him blend easily with the people around them.

It was an easy mission –they would need to pretend to be a couple, just having some casual fun together, and bump into their target to put a chip on him that would make it easier for Winston to track him down.

As he pushed open the door of the pub, Zenyatta by his side, Jesse sighed as music enveloped him. The low lights made the pub appear small, but it was not just that –the building was built with soft curves and low ceilings, which made it feel almost intimate.

A low, steady hum –like a bass, but low enough that Jesse had a hard time hearing it, and could only feel it if he pressed a hand on the wall, the vibration deep under his fingers– seemed to accompany the music, not loud enough to prevent people from talking, but loud enough that it could be heard.

Jesse moved inside, casually sidestepping a patron who was lingering on the door, but as Zenyatta followed him inside, he felt him stiffen, a tiny stutter in his steps, a little falter of his forehead array.

“Problems, sweetheart?” he leaned against Zenyatta, wrapping one arm around his side, close enough that he could feel Zenyatta’s chassis vibrating.

“No, Jesse.” Yet, Zenyatta had hesitated, if only for a fraction of a second, before finally relaxing. “We should focus on the arrival of our target.”

“You sure you’re alright?” Jesse was still worried, but they did have a mission to focus on. He pressed a mindless, light kiss against the side of Zenyatta’s faceplate then reluctantly pulled away.

It was amusing, really –they had not paraded the fact that they were dating to the other agents, so when Winston had asked them to act as a couple for this mission, short as it would be, Jesse had almost laughed at the irony.

They did not mean to keep it a secret, but their friends, bless them, were rather nosey, and Jesse felt a thrill at the thought that they’d managed to keep their relationship under wraps so far. It was almost like a joke, and both had decided to bet on which of their friends would realise first.

As he walked further inside, Jesse took notice of where the exits were, and that the pub, as they’d seen from online photos, was divided in two parts –a dancing stage, closer to the giant thrumming speakers, and a sitting area with loveseats and velvet armchairs.

Many patrons were human, but there were just as many omnics; Jesse remembered having seen a flyer about some kind of omnic-focused thing happening at the pub, but he was not sure whether it was for tonight or some other night.

Jesse wondered idly whether Zenyatta would enjoy this kind of place if it was not for the mission, but he supposed he wouldn’t –he always seemed to prefer quiet places, after all.

“Hope the music’s not annoying you,” he murmured in Zenyatta’s auricular receptor, and for a moment he had to fight off the obnoxious desire to kiss him, simply because he could.

“It is… alright.” Again, something in Zenyatta’s voice made Jesse pause.

Yet, before he could ask him anything, Jesse looked up and spotted their target. “Hey, look. He’s here even earlier than expected.”

Their target was a tall, fairly attractive man on his late thirties, dressed a little more casual than Jesse himself was and with his hair styled in a low ponytail. They simply needed to tail him enough to plant a receiver on him to record his conversations, nothing big –so if they were good, it would take no time at all.

He shifted his attention entirely to their target, gleeful at the chance to finish up early the mission. If Zenyatta was alright with it, maybe they could stick around a little longer, even dance a bit… Jesse felt a thrill of anticipation at the thought, a grin stretching his lips wide.

“C’mon, let’s get this show on the road.”

He grabbed Zenyatta by his hips once again, holding him close to his side, and moved with practiced ease across the room, smiling brightly at a lone watcher, then at a dancing couple. Zenyatta almost stumbled to follow, and again Jesse felt a sliver of worry, though with the target so close, he could not focus on it.

It was possible the music was truly unpleasant for him, Jesse had no idea, or maybe it was the lights, or…

A man bumped into him and shot him a glare, before his eyes fell on Zenyatta, and the frown melted into a smug smirk. Jesse fought the urge to glare back, simply making sure Zenyatta was pressed into him, and he felt the way his chassis was vibrating, almost as if shaking.

Their target stopped at the bar, and Jesse seized the opportunity. He let go of Zenyatta, winking at him, “I’ll go get us a drink, darlin’,” he said, loud enough to be heard, and then he power walked towards the bar, fingers slipping into his pocket to retrieve the chip.

He watched with the corner of an eye as Zenyatta stumbled a little, using the edge of a table to keep upright, and he did not like it –something was wrong, but he had no time to focus on it, not yet. Walking with purpose, he slid to the bartender, lifting his arm in a salute.

“Hey, need a couple drinks for me and my partner.”

The bartender shot a look back at Zenyatta, and the slow, steady grin that took over her face startled Jesse enough that he barely heard her answer. Not a leer like the man from before, but a smug, knowing look that left him out of the loop.

“Never seen you here before, but you’re the adventurous type, are you?” she asked, waggling her eyebrows.

Jesse felt like he was missing something important, and he did not think the bartender meant his relationship with an omnic, not when there were so many couples around that fit the same bill. Still, he shrugged, an easy, lazy smile on his lips. “Sure am, darling. Both of us.”

“I can see that. If you want to take some time, I’m sure your darling will appreciate that… have fun!” she told him, sliding towards him a drink and a smaller shot of omnic oil. “Hope to see you return next week as well! We do _this_ every Sunday~”

Shaking the confusion he felt, Jesse hummed and stalled for a moment, elbow on the counter, and took a small sip of his drink, eyes following his target, who was moving towards the bar as well.

With practiced ease, he moved forwards as the target passed by him, stumbled on his feet, and slammed his shoulder against the man, sloshing his drink around.

Before the man could even look at him or get angry, Jesse had already used him to steady himself, and a quick press of his hand against the man’s collar reassured him that the chip had been planted.

Nanomachines would ensure the chip would stay attached to the man’s body heat, and follow it even on a change of clothes.

“Whoops, sorry man, I’m clumsy tonight.” He offered his target what he hoped was a sheepish smile, and the man grunted. Jesse had not noticed it before, but the man was with a pretty omnic with chrome chassis and a three-point array, who seemed to lean on him almost heavily –probably intoxicated– and his attention was fully on them, rather than on Jesse.

Then, his eyes caught a glimpse of the drinks in Jesse’s hands, and the target scoffed, though there was amusement in his face. “I can see why. We’re all a bit… busy, are we?”

And with that, his target’s hand wrapped around the omnic’s waist, tugging them closer to him as he walked away, the omnic swaying a little while following him.

Lucky guy and his company. Jesse hoped he would not have to be the one listening to the chip transmitting, if the man planned on having some fun soon…

That said… his own eyes moved back to where Zenyatta was waiting for him, and all thoughts about the mission vanished from his mind.

He’d finished in record time, now… he could find out what was wrong.

“Are… we done, Jesse?” Zenyatta welcomed him back, his tone softer than before.

“Sure are, darling.” He leaned closer, clinking his glass against Zenyatta’s knuckles, only to be startled when Zenyatta inched away from him, forehead array dim. “Zen, what’s wrong?”

“Is… is there a chance we could… move outside, Jesse?” despite his previous actions, Zenyatta reached out with one hand, holding onto Jesse’s sleeve, and with a growing sense of worry, Jesse watched his fingers shake minutely.

“Anything for you,” he murmured, so caught in his worry, tugging Zenyatta close enough to have him pressed flush against his side, that he did not notice the knowing looks around him as he navigated past the crowded pub and towards one of the inside exits, that led to a dimly lit and empty security exit.

He left the door open, aware that the music from inside was more muted, but the bass drop seemed to be ever present, even more noticeable now.

Zenyatta stepped a little further into the dim alley, only to stumble as he hit the wall of the building with his shoulder.

“Zen, what’s wrong?” he asked again, and this time his answer was a soft, wordless sound deep from Zenyatta’s synth.

“The… ah… the bass… can you hear it?”

“Uh? Yeah, does that… hurt? Shit, Zen, I– is that normal? Is that–” was that why Zenyatta avoided pubs or night clubs?

“No.” Zenyatta’s hand dig into the wall behind him to keep himself standing, and shook his head. “It is… quite the opposite.”

A blink, then Jesse’s eyes widened, taking in the minute trembling of Zenyatta’s servos, the flutter of his forehead array, the way he’d reacted to a touch…

“It’s… the frequency in the music. It messes with my processors.” Zenyatta lifted a shaky, unsteady finger to point at the opposite wall, and Jesse followed it to a small, inconspicuous flyer detailing the pub’s special Tuesday nights, and as he read, he suddenly understood –the leer of the man he’d passed by, the way even his Target had appeared unconcerned, focused more on his omnic companion than anything else, the grin on the bartender when she’d hoped he’d come back…

Tuesday night turned the pub into a _nightclub_ , specifically for omnics or omnic-human pairs.

“… _oh_.” He suddenly sounded raspy and breathless himself, the reality of the situation hitting him like a brick, and…

“I–” he cleared his throat and swallowed, a mix of anticipation and guilt settled inside his chest. “Ya… uh, ya need some alone time or… do you want to leave?”

Seconds ticked by, and Jesse tried to look casual as he waited for Zenyatta to answer.

“No.”

Jesse blinked again. “Come again?”

“That… would be the point yes.” Zenyatta sounded breathless, shoulders twitching, but then the words registered and Jesse felt a flare of heat inside his guts.

 “We have… nothing else to do, tonight.” Zenyatta murmured. He had no idea how appealing he looked to Jesse, slumped against the wall, shaking, now that Jesse knew what was causing it. “If we went back to the base, we would not… have any alone time, but…”

“But– we aren’t expected to come back this soon,” Jesse found himself smiling, a slow stretch of his lips, as all his worries and hesitation melted away. “Why, Zen, I did not know you were like _this_.”

“Does this… surprise you?” Zenyatta remained against the wall, but the way he faced Jesse, his faceplate tilted a little so the light cast shadows on part of it, made him look at the same time alluring and insecure. “Or does it… bother you?”

“Nah. You’re pretty hot, and I like some daring shit.” Jesse hummed when Zenyatta’s synth crackled with laughter. “Like fucking my boyfriend in the back of a pub. _Fuck_ , that’s something I dig.”

“Oh–”

“Only if you _wanted_ me to.”

“… _please_.”

Jesse moved closer, and Zenyatta did not push him away, tugging him closer, close enough that Jesse could feel the tiny trembles of his chassis against his chest.

“So… tell me… how does the bass make you feel, Zen?”

“Warm.” Zenyatta slotted in his arms comfortably, pushing their groins together, and Jesse groaned, feeling himself growing hard. “Hot. Dizzy.” He gasped, synth crackling with static, when Jesse’s hands travelled down his waist, sneaking under his clothes. “Every inch of my chassis feels… tight. Sensitive.”

“Hmmm…”  Jesse brushed his lips against his faceplate, then lower, on the curve of his mouth piece, then on the pistons of his neck. “What else?”

“Like I’m…” Zenyatta stuttered again when the bass seemed to drop deeper inside the pub, and clutched at Jesse’s shoulders. “… always so close…”

“Already?” surprised but intrigued, Jesse pushed him against the wall and Zenyatta went willingly, tugging him along. “Good thing we got assigned together, then.”

“I’ve been so close since earlier… yet I can’t…” Zenyatta was still grinding against him, now with purpose, and Jesse realised he was not kidding when his hand slid between them, only to come back damp with Zenyatta’s lubrication where it’d seeped through his pants.

“ _Shit_.” Jesse swallowed again, lightheaded with the sudden reality of the situation. “That strong?”

“I need you, Jesse…” Zenyatta tilted his chin up, forehead array turning darker. “Will you help?”

“Fuck,” Jesse tugged Zenyatta’s pants down, fumbling with the buttons in his haste to get them off. “Fuck _yes_.”

Zenyatta’s modesty panel was still closed, but his slick seeped from the seams, and it was telling of how wet he was, with nothing even touching him. As it slid off, revealing plump, swollen folds, Jesse felt his mouth water at the sight.

“ _Jesse_ …”

He dragged one finger across the folds, not pushing in, and was rewarded with a gush of slick and a full-body shudder, even as his cock slid out of its sheath.

“So much to play with here, dunno where to start,” Jesse groaned, mouth watering as he stared.

Before Zenyatta could make another plea for him, he curled his fingers around the prosthetic cock, grip steady as he tugged at it, pushing Zenyatta into the wall.

Zenyatta made a broken, glitchy sound, and his legs parted right away, stuttering as he tried to find a grip on the wall, fingers digging into the bricks. Jesse dropped on his knees in front of him, mouth parted halfway through as he reached for the tip of his cock.

“Heaven is this,” Jesse murmured, grinning, but Zenyatta couldn’t hear him, fans spinning fast to regulate the waves of heat in his chassis.

Then he moved, swallowing down Zenyatta’s cock in a single movement, down to the base, nose pressed against the flat metal of his stomach, and Zenyatta convulsed, shaking with the effort of staying still and standing, most of his weight on Jesse, the rest barely holding onto the wall.

The metal of Zenyatta’s head scraped against the wall as Jesse pushed into him again, feeling the tip of his cock press into the back of his throat, his mouth full and tongue lavishing the underside of it with attention, sucking onto it enough that Zenyatta sobbed and arched up, shocked at the sudden, aggressive pleasure.

“ _Jesse–!_ ”

Jesse did not answer, sliding away from his cock slowly, tantalizing, until only his lips were pressed into the tip, breathing harshly through his mouth, and glanced up at Zenyatta, eyes half lidded with pleasure, cheeks flushed, grinning when Zenyatta made a garbled, needy sound.

He grabbed Zenyatta’s inner thighs with his hands and pushed them further apart, spreading him open, slid his hands down and then hoisted one of Zenyatta’s legs over his shoulder, feeling the heavy metal press against his ear, then tried to get his other leg as well, and Zenyatta’s synth burst into little sputters.

“I… Jes–se, are you su–”

Jesse swallowed down his cock again, and Zenyatta’s words shattered into nothing.

He slid a little down the wall, and Jesse used this moment to flip his other leg over his shoulder, so he could have all of Zenyatta’s weight on him, hands planted easily under his ass.

Ears enveloped by Zenyatta’s thighs, Jesse sucked hard on his cock and held him still, the tremors of Zenyatta’s back conveying his pleasure as effectively as his hoarse moans.

He didn’t care if they were seen –the thought only made him feel hotter, wanting someone to pass by and see Zenyatta so far gone because of him, screaming and nailing the wall while Jesse nailed _him_ …

The tip of his thumb stretched from his grip on Zenyatta’s thigh to run a path on the outer edge of his leaking valve, feeling the wet drip of his slick, but the position did not allow him much other than that, and he regretted–

Jesse pushed off Zenyatta’s cock, gasping for breath, swallowing and panting, then went down on it again, mindless with desire to drive Zenyatta to his orgasm, feeling his own cock strain into his pants, throbbing with every wet slide inside his mouth and throat, and he groaned, muffled and needy, even as he continued to lick and suck with all he had.

Every time he pushed back, Zenyatta made a startled, desperate sound, and when he swallowed his cock again he gasped and clenched his thighs around Jesse’s head, his valve and cock both so wet, and yet…

“I c… I can’t… J-Jesse, I can’t… I–”

Frantic, Zenyatta dug his fingers into the wall, trembling hard yet still on the edge, unable to come. The pleasure was like a numbing blanket, cutting off his processes and turning his body into mush, yet he found no end, spikes of pleasure continuous but denying him his climax, burning through him in waves that had no end.

Having Jesse around his cock heightened the pleasure, and if he hadn’t been holding him up, Zenyatta would have slumped on the ground, unable to keep himself standing anymore, body shaking with need, the thrum of the bass still controlling his circuits.

“Ah… ah–”

When Jesse carefully let Zenyatta’s cock slip from his mouth, panting hard and gently guiding Zenyatta’s legs off his shoulders, he had to move quickly to hold him up, Zenyatta’s chassis trembling with strain as he rubbed himself against Jesse’s chest, seeking more friction.

“Zen–” Zenyatta barely heard him, lost in the depths of his pleasure, and Jesse pushed him back against the wall, understanding flashing through his eyes.

Hands groped for his cock, then his valve, and Zenyatta whined deep in his synth as he felt fingers guide something hot, hard and thick to the folds of his valve, pushing inside with a wet, easy slide.

He clenched down on Jesse’s cock, shocks of pleasure rocking into him as Jesse gave an experimental thrust, fucking him into the wall, and Zenyatta wailed and wrapped both arms around his shoulders, holding him close.

“Pl-please… ah… aaah… J–Jesse… _harder_ –”

The wet sound of their fucking, mixed with Jesse’s harsh pants and Zenyatta’s fans was loud enough that any other sound faded away, and Jesse continued his brutal pace, hips thrusting hard into Zenyatta’s, feeling him hit the wall behind him, metal scraping against bricks.

One hand wrapped around Zenyatta’s cock so Jesse could jack him off, thumb slipping across the tip with every deep thrust of his hips. Slick coated his fingers, making his grip slippery, and the tight clutch of Zenyatta’s valve around his cock was just as slippery, even with Zenyatta clenching so tightly around him, trying to keep him in.

“Hnn… ah–”

There was not an inch of Zenyatta that was not shaking, synth glitching in pleasure as he convulsed, squeezed between Jesse’s body and the wall.

Still–

Pleasure trickled inside Jesse’s belly, tugging him towards his finish, yet Zenyatta seemed unable to follow through, shaking and moaning, one hand falling from around Jesse’s neck to his cock, wrapping around Jesse’s own, then desperately sliding lower, to where they were connected, metallic thumb caressing his glowing nub, slipping with how much slick was dripping from his valve, tiny hiccups coming out of his synth.

“hnnn– Je-Jesse, I– I _need_ –”

He looked absolutely wrecked, and Jesse felt his cock jolt at the sight, feeling so close he had to bite on his lower lip hard, pausing mid-thrust, to keep himself from coming.

Zenyatta was still frantic, still on edge, winded by the heat and the pleasure, and Jesse swallowed down his own desire, slowing down in his thrusts to observe the way Zenyatta’s servos twitched, his thighs parted and shaking, leaking all around his cock, translucent teal slick dribbling down the side of his own prosthetic cock.

“Jess–”

“Shh, I’ve got you.”

It was hard to think when his cock was hard and aching and pleasure made his thoughts muddled, but he managed, blinking as he finally stopped fucking zen, panting hard against the curve of his neck to catch his breath.

“Jesse, Jesse, pl-please, I need–” hands pulled at his shirt, at his clothes, sliding down his sides to try and get him to move again, and Jesse shushed him gently, knowing what to do.

“Yes, darling,” Jesse slipped out of Zenyatta with a wet, lewd sound. He felt Zenyatta’s valve clench around him, trying to keep him inside, but it wouldn’t work.

If this was a bass, teasing Zenyatta, keeping him on the edge, then he’d need something a little more… drastic.

“Trust me, Zen,” he murmured, even as Zenyatta tried to cling to him, fingers trembling where they clutched at his shirt like a lifeline.

He turned him around to face the wall, eyes dropping down to the trickling trail of slick between his legs, and he swallowed hard at the sight, wanting to bend down again and lap it up, but he knew he’d already kept Zenyatta on the edge enough.

He nudged his hard cock between his legs, slotting it with his valve, and Zenyatta angled himself back, fingers splayed against the bricks, head tilted to look at him, tiny chirps leaving his synth.

Gently, he pushed back inside, enveloped again by the hot, wet clutch of his valve, and Zenyatta tightened around him, almost spasming in his need to be filled.

“Ah–”

“Here, here, I’ll make everythin’ better,” he rubbed his chin against the back of Zenyatta’s head, making him whine deep in his synth, pushing his hips gently into him, his rhythm not as frantic as before, but fucking slow and deep into Zenyatta. “C’mon, babe, let me hear you.”

Zenyatta made a soft, strangled sound, but it dissolved into a loud, startled moan when Jesse shoved him into the wall, angling his movements enough that with every hard push inside Zenyatta he lifted him a couple inches, one hand wrapped around his waist to reach down for his cock, tugging at it in rhythm with his thrusts.

With pleasure stealing him away, the urgency never fading from his processes, Zenyatta had no choice but to submit to it, loud moans leaving his synth. He knew there was a chance someone could come and find them like this, but the thought only brought a shudder down his back –someone seeing Jesse having him against the wall, with him unable to do anything but scream and be taken deeper was…

“ _Ah_ –”

The burning pressure inside his chassis did not lessen, but the familiar, welcome feeling of Jesse fucking into him was a pleasant distraction, sending shiver of pleasure down his servos and his processes already overloaded with input data.

Pushing back against the even, constant thrusts, Zenyatta angled himself, feeling the hot, wet slide of Jesse’s cock inside his sensitive valve, tried to chase the pleasure towards its end, yet it continued to evade him, the edge a constant, burning sensation that he could not topple over.

He dug his fingers into the bricks in front of him, pressing his face plate against the cool, rough surface, thoughts blurry and uncertain, the edges of his vision faded as most of his processes defaulted to reset, his focus only on the pleasure.

“D’you want to come, Zen?” Jesse breathed against his auricular receptors, and his voice came from far away, even as Zenyatta attempted to answer, synth glitching before it finally croaked a loud, aggressive consent. “D’you _really_?”

Valve aching, leaking burning, Zenyatta almost twisted around, what was left of his conscious thoughts determined to push Jesse down and ride him hard, then Jesse laughed –the sound warm and pleasant, his throat vibrating against the curve of his wires, and Zenyatta melted.

“You can, Zen. Come for me, c’mon.”

Before Zenyatta could beg –he couldn’t, he _couldn’t_ , he was _there_ and _yet_ – Jesse caressed down his side with his prosthetic hand, digging deep into Zenyatta’s lower back, pushing past the mass of messy cables curled up out of sight, fingers pushing deeper, and then–

His fingers fizzled with static, seizing up Zenyatta’s circuits, and–

The dam broke, and with a choked hiccup Zenyatta toppled over, climaxing, Jesse fucking him hard and fast until he was squeezed between him and the wall, slick splattered over the bricks as Jesse’s hand milked him dry, slipping over his prosthetic dick as Zenyatta continued to come, the pleasure taking over him as he shuddered and shivered, optical receptors shutting down through the force of his orgasm.

He felt Jesse curse as he tightened around him, he felt his thrusts stutter, he felt him come inside him, adding his own climax to the mess inside, and Zenyatta moaned and had another, shorter orgasm, the fingers digging into his back making him feel more raw and exposed than the fact that he was getting fucked outside of a nightclub.

His entire chassis felt oversensitive, the hand on his cock a little too much, even as it gave a few last, weak twitches, a bead of lube trapped on the slit, and he felt Jesse let him go, his weight against his back heavy and comforting.

Zenyatta’s synth cracked one last time as he slumped against the wall, scratching his faceplate against it, and for a moment he allowed himself not to think, spent and languid.

“That was a wild ride.” Jesse leaned close, kissing the curve of his neck, then his pistons. “You ‘lright?”

He nodded, not trusting himself to speak yet, legs weak and arms shaking.

They remained like that for what felt like forever, Jesse’s heavy breathing slowing down, his lips parting slightly as he pressed kiss after kiss on Zenyatta’s shoulders, then his exposed neck, then the back of his head.

After a while, Jesse slipped out of him, hissing at his spent cock suddenly hit by cold air, and Zenyatta made a soft sound when he felt a trickle of slick slide down his thighs. “Shit, made a right mess out of you.”

Zenyatta startled himself with a tiny, discordant chuckle, even as he pushed weight on his feet to keep standing. “It was…” he recalibrated, voice back to normal, if a little breathy, “worth it.”

He could still hear the bass, deep and vibrating in his circuits, but the edge had simmered, taken away by the thrumming of his orgasm, and Zenyatta felt appeased and sated.

Not the way he had expected his mission to end, but a pleasant one nonetheless.

As Jesse gently turned him around, one thumb idly caressing the outer edges of his valve, translucent lube staining his crotch and thighs, his eyes glued to the sight, Zenyatta’s thought process finally resumed its usual coherence.

“Jesse?”

“Yes, darling?”

“I hope you shut down the intercom?”

As Zenyatta looked up into wide, alarmed brown eyes as Jesse scrambled away from him, patting furiously his clothes to check for his intercom, he could not really make himself care.


End file.
